Heaven help me you smell good
by Jack of the North
Summary: Sirius has planned to trap Hermione in the library for some late night fun. However he gets more then he bargained for. Two chapter fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Part one of two. Enjoy. **

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Hermione crept down the stairs, trying desperately to remember where each creaky floorboard was. Though she was grateful to Sirius for letting her live there, and for letting the Weasley's stay at Grimmauld Place, she resented that Mrs Weasley still treated her like a child and had forbid her, Harry, Ron and Ginny from wandering around after bed time. She said with Voldemort defeated, nothing was so important that she need to lock herself in the library until all hours of the night. The older woman just didn't seem to realise that studying, even now after Voldemort and school, wasn't an option it was necessity, like food or water or air.

Hermione jumped the last three stairs – notorious creekers – and continued on down the hall to the Black Library. It was her favourite room in the house. She could happily spend hours, days here. Sometimes the boys, Sirius, or Remus would join her, but usually she was on her own.

She couldn't wait until the renovations on the Burrow were done and she was free to wander about at any time of the day or night.

Ron and his mother seemed to engage in daily warfare about where Ron would live when the family moved back. It hadn't yet occurred to him, and no one had bothered to enlighten him, that as an eighteen year old wizard, his mother didn't actually have any say in where he lived. Or maybe it had occurred to him and he was just being a mamma's boy.

Hermione cracked open the door to the library and checked over her shoulder to make certain no one had heard her. Believing the coast to be free Hermione slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. As the rich musty smell of the books assaulted her nostrils, she knew without a shadow of a doubt where she was. If she had been led here blindfolded she would know where she was, though her eyes saw nothing in the darkness. Suddenly the numerous torches, lamps and lanterns flared to life and sitting calmly at the desk in the corner was none other the Sirius, a cocky smirk played across his features.

"Now, here I was thinking that Molly instructed you no more late night library visits." Sirius eyed the girl, highly amused. He watch as a myriad of emotions danced across her face as she decided which path to take.

That was one of the things that attracted him to his Godson's friend, though he knew it wrong; you could read her like a book.

"Mrs Weasley, though I love her, is not my mother, nor is it her house. So, unless you have a problem with me being here, I think I'll just have a look around, thank you."

Sirius barely contained his bark of a laugh at the self-righteous look she gave him.

"So," he said, removing himself from behind the desk to tail her around the sizable library. "You're saying that if Molly was to walk through that door and tell you to get back to bed, you would repeat what you just said to me?"

"Well… not exactly; I don't want to be cruel."

"Well, what if I were to go and fetch her; dob you in."

Sirius smirked at the shocked look her features took on.

"You wouldn't," she said, hoping he was bluffing.

"Oh, I would. It's been a _boring_ couple of days."

"I – what – you."

Sirius laughed at her indignant spluttering.

The kids had learnt to take his threats seriously the week before after he had dobbed Ginny and Harry in for a laugh because the twins had gone back to work and was _bored._

Everyone, even Hermione who didn't have a boyfriend, had been sat down at the kitchen table and give 'the facts of life' speech. It wouldn't have been so bad but Sirius had decided that as Harry's Godfather and master of the house, he should sit in on the discussion. _That_ wouldn't have been so bad except he had taken to using words like, Rocket of Love, quivering member and Hermione's personal favourite, organic dildo.

Ron and Harry had laughed out loud while Ginny and Luna – Ron's girlfriend – had snickered and giggled behind their hands. Hermione alternated between blushing profusely, avoiding eye contact and staring off into nothing.

It wasn't the subject – they'd done life skills at Hogwarts – it was the way Sirius would talk about it. He'd lowered his voice til its silky smooth baritone was flowing over Hermione, lulling her into an erotic trance. That was until Mrs Wesley had snapped and sent them all out the back, into the garden.

It wasn't the first time Sirius' voice had had that affect on her, however that time around she had the feeling he was all too aware of what he was doing to her.

"You know," Sirius said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts organic dildos. 'I think I may just go and tell Molly. It's been a quiet couple of days and I could use some excitement."

"No! Stop!" Hermione placed her hands on his chest.

Sirius smirked down at her. _'I knew she was talk. This is working out better then I thought it would.'_

Hermione's brain worked fast. She was all talk; she would never actually stand up to the older woman. She knew Sirius would do it, too. He'd upset the peace for much less valid reasons before.

Even as the frantic thoughts rushed through her mind, she couldn't help but appreciate the feel of Sirius' chest underneath her hands.

"There must be _something_ I can do to amuse, down here." Hermione sighed mentally, '_**Might as well kill two birds with one stone.' **_

His insides jumped for joy._ 'Yes! Worked like a charm.' _

With subtle flick of her wand most of the lights in the library were extinguished until only a few candles remained burning.

"How about instead of dobbing me into Mrs Weasley and waiting for the explosion, you stay here and we can create our own entertainment?" Hermione's hear raced faster then could ever remember it beating. She'd faced Death Eaters and all manner of creatures that Hell had spat out, yet standing here, attempting to seduce Sirius Black was no doubt that most frightening moment of her life.

"What exactly are you saying Hermione?"

His fingers itched to be on her body, to feel the young supple flesh he hadn't felt in years. Mrs Weasley was fond of telling the girls that Sirius was the type of man to avoid. She no doubt thought his late nigh prowlings were spent seducing unsuspecting young woman, bedding them and then stealing off into the night.

But the truth of it was, after many years of being locked away or on the run, the only way he felt comfortable leaving the house was as Padfoot. After his official pardon he'd tried, he really had. However, he wasn't ready for regular interaction with society and the public wasn't ready to interact with him.

So now, with Hermione standing before him in her oversized pyjamas, his ever sense and nerve ending was buzzing with the prospect of having not just her, but _any_ woman for the first time in over fifteen years.

He felt his calm cool exterior crumble as she reached up and placed a nervous kiss over his bottom lip. He could feel her whole body tremble in terrified anticipation, but he could smell her arousal too. It was a heady combination and it sent him reeling.  
Hermione reached up to place another kiss, this time her lips landed squarely on his mouth.

Sirius could feel her continue to shake and belatedly realised that in all his planning he had forgot to factor in whether or not Hermione had ever actually been with a man.

Hermione lips were moving oh so sweetly against his and though his body eagerly responded, hungrily kissing her back, his mind kept telling him no.

_She's a virgin! Do you really want to do this to her? Her body might be saying yes but that doesn't mean she's emotionally ready for this. _

**But she wants me,**another part of his mind screamed. **This isn't the first time she's been turned on by me. **

_Rape victims can become aroused, it doesn't mean they_ want_ to be raped. _

Hermione felt Sirius' lips still against hers and he slowly pushed her away.

"Did – did I do something?" she asked, feeling rejected and stupid as the tears pooled in her eyes.

"No," Sirius croaked, his voiced hoarse from unsated passion and longing. "You are perfect."

Hermione took a step towards him but he held up his hands to stop her.

"Go to bed, Hermione."

"What? Why?"

"Just… just go to bed."

Hermione played with the corner of her flannel pyjama top, just realising that only three of the seven buttons were done up.

"I don't understand." She awkwardly gestured to the noticeable bulge in his pants. "I thought you wanted me."

Sirius laughed, frustrated.

"I do, believe me I do. I just don't want your first time to be an illicit late night blackmail. It should be special. You deserve that."

"Am I that obviously virginal?" Hermione blushed.

"No, I didn't even think of it until just now."

Hermione didn't know what to feel. She had been fully ready for Sirius to be her first, whether he knew it or not. But now he stood there, stoically telling her she deserved more; something special. And it made her want him even more.

"Then take me out," she suggested.

Sirius froze. No, taking her out definitely wasn't an option. Agoraphobia aside, Molly would have his balls if she knew what he was doing.

Seeing the panic set in his eyes, Hermione backtracked.

"Or you could make me dinner. You know, once the Weasley's were gone."

Now that the idea of being with Sirius was firmly rooted in her mind, she was determined to have him.

Sirius smirked, self-confidence returning at her persistence.

"I could do that. How about the first Saturday after they leave, I'll cook you dinner."

Hermione smiled, satisfied. "It's a date."

"Yeah," said Sirius in wonder. "It is."

Hermione placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before scurrying back to bed.

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**Review and I'll love you forever. Really I will. **

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Part two of two. Enjoy.**

Thanks G.V.S.L for help.

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The next two weeks were interesting. Hermione had lasted a whole two and a half days before she had confessed Ginny what had happened.

"You have a date with _the _Sirius Black. Notorious outlaw, marauder, murderer-"

"He didn't kill anyone!" Hermione cried, interrupting her friend's whimsical tirade.

Ginny waved her hand between them, dismissing such pesky things like the truth and hard facts.

"Details, details. The point is, he's fit, he's hot, he's sexy. He has that whole 'bad boy' image going for him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The man is agoraphobic, Gin, how dangerous can he be."

Ginny nodded her head, knowingly. "So he has issues, hey? Just adds to the mysterious charm."

"Can't you just see him for the man he is? Loyal, kind, selfless."

"Hermione's in love!" Ginny mocked.

"I am not!" Hermione had defended. "I just appreciate Sirius and all his qualities."

Sirius chose that moment to storm passed the girls' door, damning Kreacher to the depths of hell. "Well, maybe not _all_ his qualities."

Sirius hadn't lasted the morning, going straight down to the kitchen almost as soon as Hermione went to bed, and had flooed Remus, demanding he come over. Remus had emerged half-dressed and half-asleep.

"I have a date," Sirius announced pacing in front of the groggy werewolf.

"I didn't know you could have 'dates' sent to a magically disguised house."

Sirius scowled at his friend.

"Not with a prostitute you perverted mutt. With Hermione. "

Remus was shocked. "So definitely not a prostitute."

"No! Not a hooker! Do you think that little of me?"

"No!" Remus cried, offended by Sirius' own offence. "But you have been cooped up in this house for a few years not. You could be getting… lonely."

"Well, I am, but I had someone a little classier in mind."

"Hermione."

"Yes, Hermione."

If he had been honest, he would have admitted that he had first tried to seduce the witch. However, apart from revealing the date itself he didn't feel like sharing and decided to keep the circumstances of their decision to go on a date to himself.

Sirius had carelessly dismissed Remus and the wolf had flooed back home.

The following couple of weeks had seen Hermione and Sirius engaged in more than one deep intense conversation. They often shared lunch together in the library – Hermione had labelled them friendly lunch dates – completely different from their planned romantic dinner date.

Through their tête-à-têtes, their knowledge of each other grew. Hermione learnt about Sirius' brother and how James and Remus were more brothers to him then his own flesh and blood ever was. In turn, Hermione told him about growing up without any brothers or sister and no real friends. She told him about her parents' painful attempts to expand their family and the pressure they put on their only child when they finally gave up.

Sirius told her about losing his father to dragon pox and Hermione told him about her mother's struggle with breast cancer when Hermione was only eight years old.

"I have never been so devastated," Hermione had said of her mother's battle.

Of his father, Sirius said, "I've never been so relieved."

Finally the day came when the Burrow was completed and the Weasleys – sans Ron – were moving back home. Ron had finally grown a pair and had stood up to his mother, telling her that he would be staying at Grimmauld Place. Hermione had stood supportively by his side while Harry and Sirius had snickered in the background, no help at all.

That afternoon Hermione had been reading under a tree in the backyard, watching the boys practice when Sirius approached her.

"So…"

"So…?"

"House will be empty this Saturday."

Hermione gestured to the two boys flying overhead; Hermione had bewitched Quaffles to fly at Ron and, so far, Ron had managed to block most of them. "What do you call those? Watermelons?"

"Haven't you heard? They are going to Bulgaria for the weekend. Your sweetie invited them to train with his team."

Hermione scoffed at Sirius' name for Viktor. "Viktor is neither a sweetie nor mine."

But still, this was good news. Ron, having gotten over Hermione had, in turn, gotten over his hatred of Krum. And apparently was happy to fawn over him again.

"So, empty house except you and me…"

"Is there something you're trying to say to me, Sirius?"

Sirius fidgeted with a leaf, tearing it to shred before setting it free and letting the wind carry it away.

"Will you have dinner with me this Saturday evening?"

"I'd love to." Hermione smiled at him. They stared at each other a moment before Sirius cleared his throat, smiled goofily and left her to her book.

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Hermione was nervous. She didn't think she would be so the slight shake of her hand came as quite a surprise. In an act of complete girliness, Hermione had Apparated to the Burrow that morning to raid Ginny's wardrobe for robes. The Weasley's may not have had a lot of money to buy fancy clothes but Ginny more then made up for it with her sill with a needle and thread.

Together they had decided on a simple set of black fitted robes, which Ginny advised her to leave open to show off her jeans and pretty blue top she was planning on wearing.

Now, back in her room, Hermione stood in front of the mirror debating whether to leave it open or not. She compromised and did up half the buttons, allowing a hint of silky blue fabric to show through.

"It's just Sirius," she scolded herself after redoing her hair for the third time. Hermione eyed off the make-up Mrs Weasley had lent her but decide she was fine as she was. She had told Mrs Weasley she had a date, she had just failed to mention with who.

Mrs Weasley had been practically bouncing off the walls.

"It's not healthy to be cooped up all day and night with a middled aged man," she had said.

"Mum!" Ginny protested. "He's in his late thirties – hardly middle aged."

"All the same, I' glad you're going out for the evening." Ginny and Hermione had shared a conspiratorial smile.

Back in her room, Hermione debated between a pair of stilettos, boots or her old ballet flats. She kicked aside the other and slid into her comfortable old shoes.

She was dressed, as primped as she was prepared to get, and ready to go but was at a loss of what to do next. Sirius hadn't said if he was going to come and get her or if she should go to him.

Her question was answered by a knock at the door. She opened it to find Sirius waiting for her, dressed also in casual black robes and his beat up old boots.

His hand worked nervously on the ripped and torn stems of a bouquet of wildflowers.

He thrust the flowers towards Hermione, nearly hitting her in the face.

"Sorry," he gasped out, turning red and then more gently offering her the flowers. "You look beautiful."

Hermione took them, choosing not to comment on his awkwardness or the sorry state of the stems instead just saying thank you and putting them in a vase by her bedside.

"Do you want –"

"If you are –"

They spoke at the same time and laughed.

"Why are we so nervous? It's nothing we haven't done before." Hermione voiced what they were both thinking.

"I guess it's because now we've slapped the 'date' label on it, so if it goes badly, well then…"

"Well, it won't. Let's just go downstairs. Standing in my bedroom isn't helping."

They made their way downstairs and Hermione was surprised when Sirius led her, not to the kitchen, but to the dining room on the ground floor of the house.

Usually, a long imposing table took us most of the room but it had been removed and in its place sat a much smaller table, set for two. The room was lit with an assortment of lamps and candles. It created an inviting but not overly romantic atmosphere and Hermione thought the room was perfect.

Sirius was the perfect gentleman; he pulled out her chair for her and poured her a drink before taking the seat opposite Hermione. He then clapped his hands dramatically and their first course appeared.

"Kreacher cooked," Sirius confessed before Hermione could even ask. "I – I bribed him. I promised him that if he performed well tonight, I'd put his head on the wall next to his mum when he died."

Hermione didn't know whether to be horrified or pleased.

_Well at least they are getting along. _

Their stilted conversation began to flow as they relaxed, barely noticing as they moved through dinner and soon they were starting dessert.

As Sirius dished out a simple fruit salad and some ice cream a heated debate began abut the validity of using House Elves.

"They've been enslaved! This may be all they know but it doesn't make it right."

Sirius sighed, it wasn't the first time they had fought about this. "It wouldn't be fair to just free them all. You wouldn't just release a lion who had been raised in captivity into the wild; they starve to death. It's the same with House Elves, you free them all and most would be too ashamed to look for jobs."

"That's hardly the same thing. House Elves are intelligent creatures with a mind of their own and powerful magic. Besides, I'm not saying free them all tomorrow, I know that it's a long road but you have to agree that we must work towards a better future for these creatures; these intelligent, powerful beings!"

"Hermione! I'm not the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Hermione laughed after a moment's pause, joining her light laugh with Sirius' deep chuckle.

"Shall we take our desert into the sitting room and have a brandy?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Half an hour later their empty bowls and glasses littered the coffee table. The fire had dipped low, subtly warming their faces and lighting the room with its gentle flame. They sat side by side, their thighs rubbing as they reclined together.

"I had a really good time tonight," Hermione whispered.

Sirius shifted slightly and put his arm around her shoulders. Hermione leaned into him, breathing in the scent that lingered on his neck.

Strangely, he smelt like a woodsy forest, like grass and the outdoors.

"Why do you smell like you've been camping amongst wildflowers?" She nuzzled into his neck, breathing deeply and tickling him in the process. Sirius laughed and pushed her gently away.

"I went for a run."

"You went for a run or Padfoot went for a run?"

"Padfoot did. Do I smell or something?"

"Not in a bad way." Hermione sniffed at him again. "You smell good. Like –"

Sirius silenced her with his lips. A kiss, quickly stolen, over before it began.

"You _taste_ good," he said, once again capturing her lips. "Like strawberries and brandy.'

Hermione simply sighed in reply, her senses quickly becoming overwhelmed and clouded.

The fire crackled and flared before dying down again.

The house was quiet, silent except for the sounds of pleasure emanating from the couple on the couch.

"Do you –" A groan of pleasure halted Sirius' words for a moment as Hermione's lips moved over his jaw and down his neck. "Do you want to stop? Or go upstairs?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, don't stop, don't move, just keep going."

Sirius gladly complied, his mouth finding hers in a passionate battle for dominance. Sirius gave in and allowed her control, letting her set the pace.

He was pleasantly surprised as Hermione broke the kiss to climb onto his lap.

She paused for a moment, a blush staining her already flushed cheeks.

"Is this okay?"

Sirius tucked her hair over her shoulder and kissed her tenderly. "Are you crazy? Of course it is."

Hermione leaned forward, some of her confidence lost and tentatively resumed kissing him.

Any fear or trepidation was put aside with the feel of Sirius' lips on hers.

Her breath quickened as Sirius slipped a careful hand under her shirt. The warmth of Sirius' hand spread along her back and up to her chest until she was overcome with the desire to feel more of him, experience more of the warmth he provided.

She eagerly pushed Sirius' robes off his shoulders. They fell into a discarded heap at the end of the couch. Under his robes, Sirius wore a plain black shirt that soon followed the robes.

Hermione stilled for a moment, taking in the muscles, the stray tattoo and the fine spattering of hair that was Sirius' chest.

"You're so gorgeous," Hermione said, her words coming out as a lust-filled sigh.

Sirius could clearly hear the desire in her voice and the scent of her arousal filled the room.

"You're no troll yourself, pet," he said. Their eyes locked a moment. Sirius took the chance to take stock of what he was feeling, what was happening. He had a beautiful virgin witch in his lap who he had come to care about deeply these past weeks and a part of him just couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve it.

"If you want to stop, say so now." He almost willed her to say, 'stop.' To tell him she had changed her mind. _That's _what he deserved. If she didn't tell him, he knew he wouldn't have the strength to remove himself and the other part of him, the willing part, selfishly didn't care if she regretted it in the morning.

He could see the look on her face changing, from passionate to concerned, but not objecting. Saving them both from a lecture about his guilt and self-imposed imprisonment, he quickly changed path and adopted a lusty, cheeky look. "It's not that I couldn't stop, I would never force you, but it would be more pleasant for everyone involved if we know our boundaries before we really get into it." He stopped to look her full in the eye. "If you have any doubts, any vacillation, talk to me, okay? I want you to talk to me and tell me."

Hermione didn't hesitate to lean forward and determinedly pressed her lips to his. Sirius responded immediately, letting out a cry of protest when Hermione pulled away.

"What are you doing?" he queried.

Hermione sat back in his lap, shedding her robes and peeling off the clingy blue shirt she wore underneath. She pressed her lace-covered breasts into Sirius's chest, the heat of their bodies flowing between them.

"Not talking."

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**Sorry if you were expecting smutty goodness but, really, it was never about the actual sex.  
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